


under the cover of night

by Colby



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: Elizabeth Swann is badass, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Gen, M/M, Male Friendship, Male-Female Friendship, Physical Abuse, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-07-23 14:35:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20009908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Colby/pseuds/Colby
Summary: An AU of CotBP. What if Weatherby had not approved of a possible match between Elizabeth and James?





	1. those shall be saddened

**Author's Note:**

> This is something I started a decade ago over on the Norribeth LJ community (lol, remember when those existed?). I just recently stumbled across it and become inspired to actually continue. 
> 
> Since this is AU, Elizabeth is in love with Norrington and bff with Will.

“Ah, Captain! So pleased you could make it.” Governor Weatherby Swann’s blue eyes were smiling as James Norrington entered the foyer of the mansion. Nathaniel, the butler, bowed as he took James’ regulation tricorn hat and removed it to the closet before taking his invitation. 

“Thank you, Governor. It is an honor to receive your kind invitation to your daughter’s debut,” James bowed in response, then inched into the ballroom. It was filled with women and their daughters, all dressed in fine silks of a large variety of colors with their hair powdered upon their head, and men in their Sunday best. His eyes desperately roved the room for a familiar face – besides the one he was looking forward to seeing most – and felt relief bubble up inside him when he spotted his friends and colleagues, Groves and Gillette, standing with a few other officers in the corner of the room. Dodging Mrs. Sutton and her daughter Amelia as they made their way towards him, James quickly joined the small group. 

“Captain,” Gillette greeted him with a salute. The other men followed suit. James nodded back at them, but his attention was drawn away when Nathaniel announced Elizabeth. There was a hush throughout the room, and his stomach started fluttering as she descended the stairs in a beautiful emerald gown. A bright smile was on her face, but James knew that she thought all of this nonsense was ridiculous and unnecessary. Her dark eyes moved about the room, and when they came to rest upon him, his heart leaped pleasantly. His eyes followed her movement down the stairs, where she was greeted by her father.

"James? Sir?" 

His gaze was pulled away from the fascinating sight of Elizabeth towards Andrew Gillette, who was watching him. Beside him, Groves was smirking, and James had the feeling that Andrew had been talking to him. 

"Cat got your tongue, James?" Andrew grinned. 

"A Swann, more like." Theodore smirked while the other men laughed. 

"Steady, men." James warned, though it was impossible to miss the blush that was overtaking his face, to their utmost amusement.

"Good evening, gentlemen," a voice came from behind the small group, and they all turned to see the Governor standing with Elizabeth at his side. She had a lovely smile across her beautiful face, and her eyes were on James. 

"Governor." James bowed to the older man. Then, turning to his enchanting daughter, he repeated the action. "El- Miss Swann, you are looking as lovely as ever." He gulped as his heart began pounding rapidly and hoped she understood that his compliment was an understatement. 

"Captain," she responded brightly, curtsying. "Officers," Elizabeth curtsied to the other men before her eyes slid back to him. His colleagues bowed, holding back smirks as they did so. "I am glad you were able to attend my debut." Her mouth said brightly, but her eyes explained that she considered it rather silly. James almost burst into laughter, but quickly checked himself. 

"Elizabeth, shall we?" The Governor questioned, and she tore her eyes away from James as her father led her away towards Lord Thomas Winchell and his son, Avery. James' eyes followed her. 

"Subtle, Captain." Gillette laughed. 

\-----

Elizabeth smiled graciously up at Avery Winchell as they moved together in a waltz. It was their third dance together, as strangely, her father had been rather adamant about her dancing with him. He was only five years her senior, and while a rather educated and decent-looking young man of twenty-one, she had no interest in him. Her heart lie entirely with another, and she can feel his eyes - deep, beautiful green eyes - on her, as she had all night. 

"My dear," Lord Winchell began again, grinning down at her, his gray eyes twinkling. "You are an artist's rendition come to life." 

"Thank you, Mr. Winchell," Elizabeth replied quickly. "Apologies, but I am feeling rather faint. I think I shall go take some air. If you would excuse me." 

Curtsying, she hurried away before he could offer to escort her, and squeezed past the many dancing couples until she reached the terrace. The warm night air was still, though a slight breeze from the sea announced its presence. The moon shone brightly, pitching a white backdrop that made the garden seem to glow. 

"Miss Swann," a male voice came from her left, and Elizabeth turned and felt her heart drop at the sight of the handsome, tall officer she was quickly falling for. 

"James..." she whispered involuntarily, drowning in his eyes that were the color of the calm Atlantic. Then, grinning mischievously, she added. "Why do you insist on calling me 'Miss Swann'? I am a lady now." 

"Ah...well...it-it would be most improper to call you by your Christian name, Eliz- Miss Swann," James stuttered, and he suddenly seemed very nervous to her. And rather endearingly so. 

"Oh but James, since when have I cared about what is 'proper'?" She grinned as she slowly inched closer to him. Beads of sweat shone on his forehead, whether it was because of the heat or nervousness, Elizabeth did not know.

"AH..uh..very well....El-Elizabeth," James' tongue easily rolled over the syllables of her name, and the feeling seemed so natural to him, so...right. 

Her eyes flashed with triumph as she grinned mischievously up at him. "There now, was that so hard, James?" A pleasant chill had gone up her spine as he spoke her name aloud. It had rolled off his tongue so easily, so naturally. So...right.

"Care to stroll through the gardens, Elizabeth?" James held out his arm for her to take, which she accepted. He hoped she did not hear his heart jumping rapidly as they made their way down the path towards the bench that was hidden deep in the garden.

James knew very well that he was in love with Elizabeth Swann. It had dawned on him at a formal dinner the Governor had held in honor of Her Majesty's birthday that past winter. The pair had spent most of the evening discussing tomes of naval tactics and the taking of his latest prize. The conversation had then turned to their childhoods, and during one rather sad tale about his beloved mother's death, Elizabeth had grasped his hand softly, offering him comfort without even saying a word. That evening, James had returned home and realized that Elizabeth was certainly like no other women he had ever met.

"James?"

His thoughts were drawn back to the present. Elizabeth was gazing up at him, and he noticed that her person was rather close, much closer than was considered proper. He suddenly felt very hot, and he wasn't entirely sure it was because of the Jamaican heat. The moonlight above illuminated her full lips, warm and inviting. His eyes felt half-dazed as their bodies inched closer together, until finally his lips captured hers.

Bliss. It was pure bliss. The kiss was heaven, he tasted like salt, she peaches. Their tongues danced in a motion as old as time, the rest of the world melted away, and she moaned as he wrapped his arms around her, one large hand at the back of her head, the other at her small waist. It lasted seconds, minutes, days, perhaps even years, before James finally pulled away. 

"Eliz- Miss Swann," he began, to her disappointment. "This is most improper, we are not-"

"James," She interrupted him, her hands resting on his lapels. "I wish for you to court me."

There, it was out. Elizabeth had revealed her deepest wish, and she did not much care whether it was proper or not. She knew James Norrington was the man for her, the man she intended to spend the rest of her life with. While others in Port Royal knew Captain Norrington as the quiet, reticent, stiff officer, she knew him as James- and was proud that he trusted her so to reveal the man he really was.

He stared down at her. Being married to Elizabeth Swann had been his dream for the past several months, and he knew he wanted nothing more than for her to be his wife. Though that would require a proper courtship- which included gaining the Governor's permission, much less the rank of Commodore and the salary that accompanied it. He felt quite sure that both the latter, as well as the former, would be quite easy tasks.

"James...Captain," Elizabeth seemed to think that propriety was most necessary at that particular moment, "I know my father likes you. Speak with him tonight, ask him!"

"Miss Swann..." He had no objections that he could pitch to her, particularly when the same thought was going through his mind. Gazing down at her, her big dark eyes that he so loved pleading, he made his decision, "Indeed. I shall speak with your father after the ball. But for now, I must deliver you back. I imagine it would look most unbecoming to him if I kept you out far too long." 

Smiling, partly of relief as well as happiness, she took his arm and the couple returned to the brightly lit ballroom.

\-----

"Yes, thank you for coming, Duke and Duchess Bancroft," Weatherby Swann bowed to the final departing guests as they left the manor. Captain James Norrington stood a short distance away, his hands clasped at the small of his back. Elizabeth had excused herself shortly before, feigning tiredness - as James really knew that she did not wish to stand and thank every guest - but not before sending a beautiful smile at him that sent his stomach into rather pleasant swooping motions.

When they were finally alone, Norrington approached the Governor. The pair had formed a bond that was quite akin to friendship, and he hoped the older man's regard for him was as high as his own was for Swann. "Governor, sir" he began, his nerves jumping under his skin, "May I have a moment alone, please?"

"Certainly, Captain." The jolly man replied warmly, "Join me in my study. Would you like a brandy?"

"Alright, thank you, sir," James consented, tailing behind the Governor as he passed through the foyer and into the large study. Swann shut the door and went over to the liquor cabinet, from which he extracted a large bottle and two intricately cut crystal glasses.

"So," Weatherby began once both men were seated comfortably with their drinks. "What may I do for you, Captain Norrington?"

Now that the moment had arrived, James' confidence was beginning to be outweighed by his nerves. Taking a large sip of the bitter drink, he allowed himself several more seconds to gather his courage, aided by all of the memories of the good Governor taking him under his wing and showing him nothing but kindness and warmth. Certainly he would approve of the match, particularly after James' rather forthcoming promotion to Commodore.

"Governor, I understand that with Eliz- your daughter's debut into society, that you will begin casting an eye towards her future," James was pleased with himself with this rather articulate wording, though he could not help but notice that Weatherby's friendly grin had faded slightly- "I- I was hoping that, with my promotion to Commodore a certainty within a few years' time, that I may ask for her hand in marriage."

A moment had scarcely passed before the Governor lowered his drink with a clunk and a sigh, his brow furrowed and a frown across his lined face. "I'm afraid not, Captain. Apologies, sir, but while I do respect you as a fine, upstanding gentleman, I do not approve of my daughter marrying a Naval officer."

James' eyes widened while his heart crashed into his stomach and shattered into many tiny pieces. Without the Governor's consent, courting Elizabeth was now impossible. His dream of marrying her was just that - a dream.

Swann's next words brought him back to the scene at hand, "Besides, I have already given my consent to young Lord Avery Winchell. He cares for her, you see."

Avery Winchell, while indeed a fine gentleman, did not strike James as the sort of man who would wholly devote himself to Elizabeth nor her well-being. Admittedly, his own reasons for suddenly disliking him aside, James did not entirely trust him. And he was not quite sure why.

Suddenly aware that Weatherby was gazing pointedly at him, James knew that the discussion was at an end. Elizabeth Swann was now to be nothing more to him but an acquaintance, another civilian, no matter how much his heart will forever yearn for more. 

On his return ride to Fort Charles, James' mind was a muddled mess of thoughts. He knew that there was to be no other woman than Elizabeth for him, and that his conscious was nagging him to keep a close watch on Lord Avery Winchell.


	2. i couldn't tell her people are looking

Elizabeth let out a sigh as she examined herself in the mirror. The pale blue wedding gown fit her quite well, and it was beautiful, but she felt nothing but emptiness. Her wedding was taking place the next day, but Elizabeth was feeling far from joyous of the occasion. 

"There ye go, miss, the dress should be nice and tight on ye now," Estrella remarked as she stood up from her spot on the floor, where she had been adjusting the hem of the dress.

"Thank you, Estrella," Elizabeth uttered, smoothing out the skirt of the gown and stepping off the box she had been perched on top of. "I wish to put on a day dress for a stroll through the gardens."

"Yes, miss," Her maid agreed, and began to aid her mistress with unbuttoning the frock.

\-----

The hot Jamaican sun beat down upon her, and Elizabeth fiddled with her parasol as she shifted to adjust herself comfortably upon the cool marble of the bench. Flowers swayed in the warm breeze, their bright colors pleasant blots against the green of the shrubbery. The sun's rays bounced off the stone ground of the gardens. It was rather quiet and peaceful, and she knew it was smart to savor it, for it was the last day she would ever have at the Governor's mansion.

Her mind wandered far from the gardens, to a life that she now knew would never be- images of James flashed in front of her eyes, some consisting of his tall, handsome figure standing at the altar, his eyes alight with happiness as she made her way down the aisle toward him, others of the pair holding each other in their arms in the marital bed, just being in the other's presence. Reality set in, as these images were quickly replaced by one of Avery's merely warm grin at the altar. At this thought, Elizabeth's breath escaped in a sigh of resignation as she lay down the untouched book she had made an attempt to read, and closed her eyes. 

It was a smart match, she knew it to be true. And Avery was kind enough, he had often made sure to pay her compliments on her beauty as well as gift her with exquisite jewelry. He was next in line for the lordship of Yorkshire, therefore well-off, and would be able to provide for her in the way she was accustomed. He was a fine man indeed, she knew, and would likely be an excellent husband. And she did like him. But, he was not James.

"Miss Swann?" 

Elizabeth shook herself out of her thoughts and glanced up in surprise to see Nathaniel, who stood stiffly in front of her. He had politely cleared his throat, which had interrupted her train of thought.

"Oh!" She stood up and composed herself, pulling her brain back to the present, "Yes, Nathaniel?"

"Very sorry to disturb you, miss, but Master William Turner is inside. He is asking for you," The older man explained, his eyes squinting in response to the sunlight.

"Oh, of course," Elizabeth replied quickly, and made to follow the man indoors. Holding the parasol high, it blocked the sun from her face, but did little to aid in her already warm self.

The manor was refreshingly cool, and she entered the foyer to see her oldest friend and apprentice blacksmith, William Turner, waiting patiently for her. Elizabeth noted that he was nervously twisting the hat he held in his hands.

"Will!" Elizabeth was genuinely excited to see her friend, as it had been nearly six months since their last encounter. 

He looked the same as he always had, but with a hint of a tan on his wide face. "It is so good to see you! What brings you here?"

"Miss Swann," He beamed slightly, his dark eyes crinkled in the smile as they shifted rapidly around the room. Elizabeth grinned as she sensed that her childhood companion felt out of place in his formal surroundings, "Come, let's stroll the gardens." She nodded at the butler to allow him to follow and act as chaperone.

Will took her arm and the pair made their way out to the gardens, and the sun greeted them brightly. Elizabeth gripped onto the parasol tightly, daring it to block the glare like it was meant to do. She was already beginning to feel the rays leak into her skin, making her feel rather warm. 

"Miss Swann," Will's words brought her away from her own selfish discomfort and to her childhood friend.

"Will," she teased, amused at her friend's concern for propriety. "How many times must I ask you to please call me Elizabeth?"

He smiled back at her, pleased that his friend had retained her mischievous quality, "Once more, perhaps. As always, Miss Swann." 

Elizabeth giggled and stuck her tongue out at him as they continued down the path. Feeling the urge to speak, she turned to him. "Are you attending my wedding tomorrow?"

Will bit his lip nervously, " _Miss Swann,_ " he let out a smirk before turning serious once again. "That is what I have come to speak with you about. I...believe you are making a big mistake in marrying Lord Winchell." The words seemed to spill out of his mouth of their own accord, and for a brief moment, Will looked shocked with before his face set into a relieved expression. He was pleased that his view of Lord Winchell had finally been spoken aloud. 

Eyebrows raised in mock confusion, she smiled, "And what mistake would that be, _Mr. Turner_?" 

"Elizabeth, I am being serious, I do not trust him. You are my friend and I am just trying to help you. Will you at least be careful around him?" Will's dark eyes were wide with concern.

After several moments of silence, during which Will continued to gaze at her, set in his belief, Elizabeth let out a sigh of resignation and aggravation that he had chosen _today_ to voice this opinion and that he was not being a supportive friend. "Alright, but Avery Winchell is a kind, fine gentleman whom my father trusts and I have nothing but respect for." She retorted, watching his face. "I believe you are being utterly ridiculous in your claims. Good day, Mr. Turner." She moved to turn and leave her childhood friend behind, but he reached out and grabbed her hand, stopping her.

"Elizabeth," She was surprised to hear that his voice was stern, "Forgive me, for I certainly do not mean to be rude about your father, but has he considered all eligible options?" 

They both knew whom he was talking about, and for a moment, Elizabeth felt a jolt in her stomach. She inwardly shook herself out of it- her father had deemed James unworthy. There was no sense in dwelling on the subject. Especially if it caused her heart to constrict with pain.

"Good day, Will," she quietly stated, before she spun around and entered the manor. 

\-----

As the muffled music of the quartet floated in from the chapel, Elizabeth stared at her own reflection in the mirror while numerous maids fussed with the long skirt of her gown. The day was here, and within the hour she would be a married woman, however content or not.

"Oh Miss Swann," one of the maids, Anna, clapped her hands, "You look truly beautiful."

"Indeed, you do, miss," Estrella chimed in, smiling at her mistress. "Lord Winchell won't know what to say."

Elizabeth murmured a quiet "Thank you" before turning to face her reflection again. Indeed, she did look beautiful- the depiction of a perfect bride. But it was merely a facade to cover up her true feelings of emptiness, sadness, heartache, and other such emotions. An inner conflict that she sincerely hoped would fade with time. 

Her father's knock on the door alerted her that it was time. Her heart filled rapidly with dread, as she flashed a small smile at him.

"Oh, my dear Elizabeth, you look truly stunning," He remarked, his eyes full of pride as he took both of her hands in his and pecked her on the cheek. 

"Thank you, Father," she murmured a thanks for the fourth time that day. She hoped with all of her heart that he would see the pain in her eyes, feel the tension in her hand as he escorted her into the vestibule off the back of the chapel, that he would take pity on his poor, beloved daughter and call off the wedding. The soft harmony of the string quartet floated peacefully through the humid air, but to Elizabeth, they sounded like war drums.

_Oh Father, I can not do this. Please do not make me do this._

Elizabeth's mind urged her mouth to speak these words aloud- to say something, _anything_ to postpone her inevitable fate. But she could not, and she knew that not only was it too late, but that this was the most inappropriate moment to do so. The time had arrived, and she could not turn back now. She would not.

"My dear Elizabeth, I am just going to check that the servants have enough place settings for all the guests at the reception, I will return shortly and then we may begin," Her father stated, pulling her from her protesting thoughts.

"Yes, father," she mumbled, without really looking at him. He squeezed her hand lightly and planted a small kiss on her cheek before departing. She watched him go, and then moved to lean against the wall, squeezing her eyes shut to hold back the threatening tears.

\---

"Eliz- Miss Swann?"

The words tripped over James' tongue as he uttered them, for Elizabeth was there before him, leaning against the wall with her eyes closed. Her beauty seemed to dominate the room, as it always did. James' breath caught in his throat.

Her big eyes flew open, and James was hit by the intensity by which she gazed at him. He was once again trapped by those lovely, doe-like orbs. He checked himself, he had no right to think that way, ever.

"James!" She gasped, unable to compose herself. She brought a hand to her chest to calm her beating heart, and his eyes followed the movement, resting on that spot where the neckline of her gown ended. Realizing where he was staring, he gulped and moved his eyes respectfully back to her face, noticing that she had been watching him. He flushed.

"You-you look truly lovely, Miss Swann," He commented, taken with the need to fill the silence that had fallen between them.

"Thank you," she answered, a wide, genuine, beautiful smile making its way across her face. It vanished in an instant as she began to inch toward him. 

"James," she whispered, and reached up to caress his cheek softly with her thumb. Her touch was bliss, and James found himself closing his eyes in comfort and wonder. Her soft voice washed over him like the sensation of her touch, like the tide upon the shores of Port Royal. "I...wish it were you waiting for me at the altar."

The words forced him to snap his eyes open again, and his heart leaped into his throat. Many thoughts raced through his head, each as unintelligible as the next. Gazing down into those orbs, he was transfixed. "Ahh...uh...er..." He stuttered, as she continued to stroke his cheek.

"Ahh...uh...er," she teased, and beamed up at him.

He released a small smile, his heart pounding in his ears. She was gazing up at him inquiringly, question marks in her eyes. He couldn't possibly tell her he shared her feelings, that he'd wanted to marry her for quite some time. 

"El-Elizabeth...it- it is not your fault. None of this is your fault. You should not feel that way," James insisted, willing her to believe him, for her to understand how he felt about her. And how he could not stand to be in Port Royal any longer without hurting. "I've...I've put in for a transfer."

She withdrew her hand sharply. "What! Why, James? You mustn't! You simply mustn't!"

"I'm sorry, Elizabeth. But I have no reason to be in Port Royal any longer."

"James!"

Taking her small hand lightly in his, he silenced her protests. "I love you. I always have, and I always will." Her eyes widened at these words, but he continued. "And though we cannot be together as man and wife, as I must put duty and honor before my own happiness. But you must know this: if ever you fear for your life, or believe an act of injustice has been committed, please do not hesitate to send for my assistance. The King may demand my presence elsewhere, but my heart shall remain behind in Port Royal." 

_And with you,_ he added silently.

She stared up at him unblinkingly, eyes still wide in shock. Unable to stand her gaze any longer, he lifted her hand to his lips and planted a kiss at the back of her palm, causing a pleasant chill throughout her body. "Be well, Elizabeth," he whispered, and turned to enter the side door of the chapel. Elizabeth watched after him, shocked into silence. The hollow sound of the church bells seemed to mirror her own empty yearning. 

Neither of them noticed the figure standing just feet away, brow furrowed as he had witnessed the whole exchange between his master's bride-to-be and the Commodore. A small smirk upon his face, he spun on his heel and hurried away. He had a rather interesting story to tell Lord Winchell.


End file.
